


Confessions

by daydreamsonacloudyday



Series: Isabel Cousland [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsonacloudyday/pseuds/daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabel and Alistair confess their true feelings for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alistair knew he loved her.

It dawned on him after their unnatural quest to obtain Andraste's ashes, when she told him the full story of what happened to her family for the first time. He had put together bits and pieces of the tragedy from previous conversations, but to hear the story in full… _no one_ should have gone through that.

It was when she finished speaking, when she lay in his arms after crying herself to sleep that he realized just how much he felt for her. Granted, it wasn't the best time to fall in love—there was a Blight and all that to stop—but he couldn't help it. He was too far gone.

And he didn't care.

Because he _loved_ her.

He loved the way she bit her lip when she was nervous. He loved the mischievous grin she gave him before she said or did something that made him blush. He loved the way she snorted when she laughed. He loved the way she curled into his side during the nights they slept beside each other, the tickle of her warm breath on his neck as she buried her face against him. He loved the way she gulped down almost as much food as he did, somehow managing not to get a speck of it on her. He loved the way every arrow she loosed hit its mark. He loved the way she was still fighting, even after what happened to her and her family. He loved _her_.

Maker's breath, he was in love _._

_Love_.

He would have shouted it from the rooftops given the chance. He'd fallen, _hard_ , and he wanted the world to know that he loved an amazing, beautiful woman. He could barely hold it in, he wanted to burst, to tell her so badly, so after days and days of holding it in he finally mustered up the courage to tell her…

…

"Hey, Izzy?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Can I talk to you… alone?"

Isabel lifted her head from his shoulder, quirking an eyebrow at him. "What exactly do you want to talk about?" she asked, bright eyes on his.

"Not here," he urged, his eyes darting to their companions around camp. The last thing he needed was for all of them to be a part of this conversation.

"All right, then." She took his hand and stood up, dragging him away with her. As soon as they were alone, she whirled around with a grin and grabbed either side of his face, pulling him into a kiss.

The sudden action startled Alistair, but he quickly found himself kissing her back, their mouths moving against each other's in a familiar dance until they had to part for air. Isabel started kissing down his throat, her hands busying themselves by sliding over his skin under his shirt. She lightly nibbled on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sending shivers down his spine, his hands tightening on her waist. She was making it _very_ hard to concentrate.

"Izzy," he forced out, biting back a groan when her fingernails lightly scraped over his back.

"Yes, Ali?" she replied, her lips on his jaw before finding his again.

"Mmm… as much as I-I'm enjoying this," he mumbled between kisses, "I really n-need… to tell you…"

Isabel pulled back and bit her lip, snorting a laugh. "Oh Maker, you actually wanted to tell me something, didn't you?" He chuckled nervously and nodded, and she broke out into a fit of giggles. He laughed with her, until they both calmed down, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he murmured, watching as a grin spread across her face. He couldn't resist touching her, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek.

"Well, I try," she said, leaning into his touch. The smile dropped from her face as he got serious, her brows drawn together as she studied him. "Alistair, what is it?" she asked quietly, her green eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

Alistair wanted to just say it and be done with it, but now that the moment had come, his confidence had abandoned him.

"Thank you," he blurted out, wanting to hit himself for acting so ridiculous.

"For what?"

"For… everything," he started, trying to find the right words to say—which would have been a lot easier if she wasn't starting at him like… like _that_. He resisted the urge to nervously fidget, focusing on his thumb stroking her cheek instead. "I appreciate everything you've done for me," he continued. "Helping Connor and Eamon, taking me to see my sister… helping me with Duncan's death…"

Isabel's expression softened, a hint of a smile on her lips. "You've helped me as well," she said, nuzzling her face against his. "We're in this together."

"That we are," Alistair agreed. "I have your back, you know that, right?"

"I know. And I have yours." She let out a deep breath, the puff of air tickling his lips. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

His stomach flipped and he swallowed hard, once again nervous about telling her how he felt. "Not exactly," he muttered, releasing her and taking a step back. She regarded him with a curious expression, no doubt trying to figure out what was going through his mind.

"Then what is it?" she asked. "You can tell me anything, Ali."

Alistair scratched the back of his neck, his eyes flickering to the ground. _Maker_ , what was he doing? He was about to confess his love for her, the least he could do was _look_ at her. Mustering up his lost courage, he met her gaze again, those vivid green eyes boring into his. He took her hands in his, for good measure, and to help calm his nerves.

"These past few months would have been so much worse without you in my life," he started, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "You are a true friend, and… Isabel, I…"

He hesitated, those last two words getting stuck in the back of his throat. In that split second, Isabel gasped, her eyes going wide as she pulled her hands from his, stepping back from him. He didn't understand what provoked her reaction, unless… did she _know_ what he was trying to say?

If she did… Maker, she _pulled away_ from him.

Her rejection hurt, his heart constricting in his chest until he realized that she wasn't _trying_ to hurt him, she was just _terrified_. Isabel had gone pale, her entire body as tense as a bowstring as she wrapped her arms around herself, her wild pulse thumping in the vein of her neck. He wanted to pull her into his embrace and comfort her, but he didn't dare touch her. It was his near confession of love that had scared her half to death, after all. At least, that's what he _thought_ …

"I care about you, Izzy," he finally said, his voice soft. "So much."

For a long moment she stared at him, chewing on her lower lip, until she huffed, relaxing the slightest bit. "I know," she whispered. She went to say something else, but faltered, swallowing hard before trying again. "I… I care about you, too." He offered her a small smile, hoping she would return the gesture, but she pursed her lips together, her gaze darting away from him. "I need to go," she muttered, brushing past him, back towards camp.

"Isabel, wait!" he called after her, anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach. She stopped in her tracks, hesitating before turning around to face him. "Are we okay?" he asked, his voice small, desperate to know if he ruined things between them.

"We're fine," she snapped. Isabel took the time to think about it, her brow furrowing at the thought. "We're fine, Alistair. I just… I need to go, okay?" she said, her voice cracking.

"Okay," he whispered.

She briskly returned to camp and he waited a while before doing the same, dejected and anxious. His confession wasn't supposed to go like _that_. He was supposed to say "I love you," and then she would say it back, or at least _smile_. They would both be happy and they'd laugh, and maybe they'd even kiss. He wasn't supposed to scare away the one good thing in his life.

He kept his distance the rest of the night, disappointed when he didn't wake up in the middle of the night to find Isabel in his arms, seeking relief from yet another nightmare. He didn't sleep much after that, unable to get past the fact that he might have scared her out of ever finding comfort in his arms again.

Alistair didn't understand what had gone wrong. Isabel had said she cared about him, and he thought it had grown into something more during the time they had spent together. He wasn't positive that she _loved_ him yet, but he never thought he would get such a bad reaction from her.

He didn't know how long he tossed and turned, unable to get Isabel's terrified look out of his head, until it finally dawned on him. _Her family_. Everyone she cared about had been ripped from her life, and she'd built a wall around her heart; he was going to have to spend more time helping her take it down, piece by piece.

He could wait. His love for her wasn't going anywhere.

Determined to fix the mess he made, Alistair decided that he would start by making sure she was okay. He should have known she wasn't ready for such a monumental confession, and he needed her to know that things would still be okay, even after their disaster of a conversation. He would do everything in his power to make her smile again, even put on a dress and dance the Remigold.

The next morning he was fully prepared to set his plan in motion before she continued to pull away, but Isabel greeted him with the same good-morning kiss she gave him every time they slept apart, like their conversation the previous night had never happened. He was stunned, but eagerly went along with it, simply happy to be in her presence again. He could try to talk to her about what happened later.

That night he still hadn't brought it up—not like he had much of a chance once she dragged him away from camp, her lips on his leaving him breathless and dazed.

Two days later, when she crawled into his tent and cuddled beside him after a horrid nightmare, he still hadn't brought it up.

Five days after his failed attempt, after watching the amazement in her eyes as they traversed through Orzammar for the first time, he still hadn't told her.

A week after, when they got lost in each other in a dark room in Orzammar's palace, the feel of her beneath him driving him insane, both coming so close to crossing that last line together, he still hadn't told her.

Two weeks and one day after his failed attempt at a confession, she lay dying in his arms, and all he could do was _wish_ he told her how he felt before it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to note:  
> • Bear is Isabel's mabari.  
> • I headcanon that the way Grey Wardens sense the taint in darkspawn is by feeling naseous. So the more darkspawn/the closer they are, the more nauseous they feel.

Isabel hated the Deep Roads. They had only been down there for five days—that's what they thought, at least, since there was no _real_ way of knowing—and she had hated every single one of them.

It was dark, gloomy, and crawling with darkspawn whose taint made her sick to her stomach. The deeper down they went, the more her and Alistair had the urge to retch. Their nightmares got worse, too—not like anyone was getting much sleep to begin with.

At least they finally made it to the Ortan Thaig. According to the drunkard of a dwarf, signs of Branka were everywhere, though they hadn't found her yet… and it didn't look like they would, unfortunately for them.

Walking down yet another rocky tunnel, Isabel heard a hiss and tensed, tightening the grip she had on her bow.

"Be prepared," Sten announced, accompanied by a menacing growl from Bear, and everyone prepared for another fight. Isabel nocked and readied an arrow, her eyes darting around in the dim light, looking for whatever was waiting for them. It was quiet, too quiet, until a cacophony of hisses came from above, giant, hairy spiders dropping down from the ceiling. She screamed at the petrifying beasts, practically hiding behind Alistair.

"Keep them away from me!" she screeched, as everyone leapt into battle. She couldn't move, barely able to breathe as her heart raced in her chest. She buried her face in her hands and closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere but _there_ , her fear of the spiders overwhelming her.

She almost jumped when she felt a pair of hands grasp her arms, her eyes snapping open to land on Alistair.

"Isabel, you're shaking," he said softly, clearly worried about her. She nodded, trying to calm herself as he soothingly ran his hands up and down her arms.

"It seems our fearless leader is afraid of spiders," Zevran remarked, and she whirled around, glaring at him.

"Did you see the size of those things?" she snapped.

"You were _cowering_!" Oghren said with a laugh, and she shot him a glare as well.

"I did not cower," Isabel protested. "I just… froze."

Alistair tugged her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry, Izzy," he murmured. "I'll protect you from any spiders."

Her eyes found his as she settled into his embrace. "You promise?"

"I swear it upon my honor as a Grey Warden," he replied.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"I could shift into a spider if you wish," Morrigan started, Isabel's eyes widening at her words, "in order to help you get over your childish fear."

"You're not helping," Alistair barked at her, and Morrigan rolled her eyes at him, dropping the idea.

"Surely there is a better way for you to overcome your fear?" Leliana asked, and Isabel shook her head.

"My brother once insisted that I try by learning about spiders and understanding them," she began, eyeing one of the dead spiders like it would come back to life and eat her. "It didn't work… it just made things worse."

"I'm sorry to tell you this, dear, but I doubt these are the only spiders we'll see," Wynne pointed out.

"Great," she said with a sigh. "Can we just get this over with, then?"

With that, everyone continued down the tunnel, prepared for another fight. Isabel didn't dare leave Alistair's side, and he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple, the gesture comforting her as they walked.

"Don't worry, Izzy," he said, lacing their fingers together. "Between me and Bear, none of the spiders will get anywhere near you."

Bear happily barked from her other side, nudging his wet nose against her hand. She huffed a laugh, scratching the mabari behind the ears.

"I'll hold you to that."

The tunnel led to yet another cavern, but still no Branka. Isabel remained on high alert, her eyes scanning over the rocky ceiling, searching for the slightest clue that there were more spiders waiting for them. Beside her, Bear growled, and she jerked her gaze downwards, finding a giant spider waiting for them at the mouth of another tunnel. She squeezed Alistair's hand, holding her breath until it finally moved. It didn't attack them, instead scurrying down the passageway, as if it were leading them somewhere.

Apparently to everyone but her, that meant they were heading in the right direction.

"Following the giant spider into the creepy, dark tunnel is probably the worst idea we've ever had," she muttered under her breath.

"Just think of them as overgrown bugs," Alistair offered. "Instead of squishing them with your boot, you've just got to stab them with a sword… or shoot them with an arrow."

"They're not just overgrown, Alistair, they're _monstrous_ ," she shot back. The thought of finding more at the end of the corridor already had her heart beating twice as fast.

"Just stay behind me and you'll be fine. I'll keep you safe."

"Okay," she mumbled, letting him pull her along with the rest of the group. The tunnel lead to another chamber, covered in webbing and bones… the spiders' lair. Isabel barely made it three feet inside before she froze, trying not to shake as she frantically looked around for more spiders. "Ali, I _can't_ ," she breathed, unable to stop her voice from trembling. He turned to face her, his eyes going wide as something behind her caught his eye.

She heard them before she saw them, the sharp hissing of the spiders alerting her to their presence. She screamed as Alistair jerked her towards him and away from the beasts, shouting at the others to attack.

Everyone rushed into battle, and Isabel stayed by Alistair's side, gripping her bow so tight her knuckles were white. Her eyes darted all around her, blinking back tears as she took in the sheer number of spiders that had surrounded them. Alistair, Bear, and the others were slicing down spiders left and right, none of them getting near her, but they were still outnumbered. Isabel couldn't breathe, whimpering as she trembled, dropping her bow as she pressed her fists to the side of her head, wishing the spiders would vanish and everything would just _stop_.

She was all but ready to crumple to the ground and cry until it was over, when she saw a spider even more horrifying than the ones she'd already seen. It was bigger than the rest, and by the yellow and purple markings on its large, round abdomen, it was very poisonous—deadly, even.

And it was headed right for her and Alistair.

He had no idea the thing was barreling towards them, too busy taking on two spiders in front of him. The thought of it pouncing on him, _killing him_ , struck even more fear into her heart, and she frantically picked up her bow from the ground, desperate to do _something_. She pulled out an arrow from her quiver, nocking it and raising her bow, unable to aim with her shaky hands. She let out a desperate whine as she tried to focus on what she was doing, taking a deep breath and holding it as she aligned the tip of her arrow with the monster's beady eyes.

Isabel loosed her arrow, her chest constricting when she missed her target, the arrow landing in the side of the spider's abdomen. It released an enraged shriek, and she tried to get in another shot but the massive creature jumped, flying through the air right at her. She screamed, bringing her bow up as a shield as it landed on her, knocking her to the ground. Her heart was racing, pumping adrenaline through her veins as she struggled against the weight of the spider, it's fangs gnashing at her from behind her bow.

Her arms started to give out, her muscles burning against the force of the spider. She screamed again, excruciating pain radiating through her body as its fangs found her shoulder. It pulled back and dug into her shoulder again, her mouth open in a wordless cry of agony as the breath left her lungs.

She heard Alistair shout her name, his voice frantic, and then felt the warmth of the spider's blood rush onto her as his sword sliced through its head… or was that her own blood?

Alistair kneeled at her side, pulling her onto his lap as he covered the wound with his hand and desperately called for Wynne. His eyes landed on hers, the amber orbs filled with terror.

Isabel tried to say so say something, but couldn't get any words out, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her vision blurred as she grew dizzy, her heartbeat pounding in her head, a strange, cold sensation spreading through her body.

"Isabel, please, hold on," Alistair muttered, rocking her back and forth in his arms. He _screamed_ for Wynne, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't you leave me, too… _please_ don't leave me… I need you…"

She could barely see him now, darkness creeping in on the edge of her blurred vision, but she could still _hear_ him, and he sounded so afraid. She'd never heard him sound so distressed, and she wanted to comfort him, to reach for him, but her arms were heavy, too heavy to move if she could summon the willpower to even try.

Alistair said something else, but her hearing failed her and all she heard was the deep, wordless rumbling of his voice. Her eyes drooped closed even though she didn't want them to, her lungs burning as she struggled for air. It was so hard to breathe, to stay awake, and she could feel herself fading away until there was nothing left… she descended into darkness, everything around her going black.

…

The sound of her scream sent shivers down his spine. She wasn't supposed to be _screaming_ , she was supposed to be behind him, _safe_ , like he promised she would be.

Summoning every last bit of strength he had, Alistair finished killing the spiders he faced, immediately turning toward the source of Isabel's scream, the sight that greeted him making his heart clench in his chest.

A spider twice the size of the others they fought had pinned her down to the ground, its monstrous size overwhelming her as its fangs dug right into Isabel's shoulder. It tore through her armor like it was _nothing_ , her accompanying cry of pain making him wince.

Alistair was already running towards her, shouting her name as he readied his sword, ramming the beast with his shield and stabbing it through the head. He dropped everything as soon as it was dead, his eyes frantically looking towards where Isabel lay motionless beside him.

He threw himself on the ground beside her, pulling her broken body into his arms and pressing his hand to her bleeding shoulder as he called for Wynne. Isabel opened her mouth to speak, but all she could do was gasp as she struggled for air, her warm blood soaking his hand through his gloves.

Alistair's stomach dropped, his chest tight as he rocked her back and forth, pleading for her to hold on. Seeing her like this, holding her in his arms as the life slowly poured out of her had him frantic, his mind racing with pleas to the Maker while he tried not to think about where things were heading.

He looked up to the battlefield, _screaming_ at the top of his lungs for Wynne when he didn't see her right away. He swallowed hard as he looked back to Isabel, a knot in his throat, his mouth dry.

"Don't you leave me, too… _please_ don't leave me… I need you," he begged, watching in horror as she stared up at nothing. She was shaking—no, _he_ was shaking—and he could see the light fading from those normally vivid, green eyes as she lay dying in his arms. "Isabel!" he wailed, blinking back tears, "please, don't go!"

His cries were for naught, her eyes fluttering closed, her shallow breaths few and far between. Alistair choked back a sob, gently brushing back her hair from her face with a shaky hand as he pulled her body to his chest, nuzzling his face against hers. _Maker_ , she was so cold, all the warmth from her body sapped away, like it was never there in the first place.

"Izzy… I love you," he whimpered, tears spilling down his cheeks, holding her tightly as if it would somehow keep her alive. "I love you so much," he repeated, voice trembling. "Stay with me, love. I can't… I can't lose you."

"Get back!" came Wynne's voice from behind him, and Alistair immediately did as the healer said, gently lying Isabel down on the ground, a spark of hope in his heart. Wynne got straight to work, kneeling over her, holding her ear to her mouth and then her chest before summoning healing magic to her fingertips. "She's breathing, barely, and her heartbeat is faint," Wynne stated as she healed the wound in Isabel's shoulder. "She's lost a lot of blood, but she might just make it."

Alistair let out a shaky breath of relief, slumping as he looked upwards, a thank you slipping past his lips. He wiped the tears from his face and took her hand in his as the rest of their companions gathered around them. He barely registered their presence, his eyes locked on Isabel, the tiniest of pulses beneath her paled skin.

She might live… the love of his life had a _chance_.


	3. Chapter 3

Isabel was warm. Wherever she was, she was almost _too_ warm, a cocoon of heat surrounding her entire body.

There was also a heartbeat. Hers was thrumming inside her head, the pressure behind her eyes causing a headache, but there was another one that she heard underneath hers—one steady and strong, the familiar sound comforting.

She continued to notice things, bit by bit… A soft weight draped over her body, the tickle of fur on her bare skin. The sound of slow, deep breaths, a fire crackling in the distance. The bare, hard flesh pressed up against her, muscular arms wrapped around her waist, bare legs intertwined with her own. Her first conscious thought was to wonder why her bed partner was clad in only his smalls, herself in a similar state save for the breast band she also wore.

Isabel fluttered her eyes open, finding herself in a familiar position. She had woken up to this very situation a lot in the past few months—curled up in Alistair's arms, her head nestled in the crook between his neck and shoulder, completely surrounded by _him_.

She was exhausted, her eyelids heavy and muscles weary, so she cuddled closer to Alistair, fully intending on going back to sleep. As she moved, her right shoulder twinged, the sharp pain jerking her out of her groggy state, the memory of what caused it coming back to her.

"Oww," she moaned, her fingers curling against Alistair's chest. He practically jumped at the sound of her voice, immediately loosening his grip on her, gently allowing her to lie on her back.

"Easy, easy," he whispered, rolling onto his side beside her, his hand cupping her face, thumb stroking her cheek. Isabel met his amber gaze, his brow furrowed and lips pursed as he stared at her intensely. "Thank the Maker you're okay," he breathed, and she'd barely processed the words before his lips claimed hers in a passionate, desperate kiss. The emotion behind it surprised her at first, but she quickly settled into it, eagerly returning his kiss.

When he pulled back they were both panting, a slow smile spreading across his face. She offered him a small smile in return, and he huffed, shaking his head as he stared down at her. He leaned in for another kiss, slower and more tender than before, but still enough to take her breath away.

He nuzzled her face, his fingers tucking her hair behind her ears before gently tracing over her face. She was content to simply lie there as he touched her, his movements relaxing and soothing, sleep starting to crawl its way to the forefront of her mind.

"I'll be right back, okay?" he whispered, jarring her out of her half-asleep state.

"Okay," she murmured against his lips as he gave her another quick kiss. Alistair carefully climbed out from under the blankets, shuffling over to the flaps of the tent and sticking his head outside. Isabel took the moment to admire his backside as he bent over, her gaze traveling over his revealed legs and back before returning to his rear.

He didn't seem to notice her staring when he turned back around and started to burrow under the blankets again.

"You're not wearing any pants," she pointed out, watching as he froze, a blush creeping up onto his cheeks. "I'm not wearing any pants either," she added, the heat in his cheeks continuing to bloom. "In fact, neither of us is wearing much of anything. What happened?"

"The spider poisoned you," Alistair said, growing serious as he settled at her side again. "You were so cold, and Wynne said body heat was the best way to warm you up… and body heat is better shared when the bodies aren't clothed."

"Right," she said, just as Wynne crawled through the flap of the tent. Bear came barreling in after her, panting in excitement, his stubby tail waggling away.

"What did I tell you?" she said, shooting the dog a stern look. He whined in apology, slowly pattering up to Isabel, gently nudging her with his snout. "Much better," Wynne commented as Isabel smiled, petting the mabari behind his ears. He started licking her face, and she giggled. "All right, that's enough." Wynne shooed Bear away, settling down next to Isabel and Alistair. "How are you feeling?" the mage asked, gesturing for her to sit up.

Alistair helped her move again, and she winced at the pain in her shoulder. "It hurts," she mumbled, taking a look at the injury to her shoulder for the first time. With the amount of pain she felt, she expected it to be… well, _worse_ , but there were only faint, white scars where her shredded and torn skin was magically knit back together.

"I was able to heal most of the damage, thankfully before you lost too much blood," Wynne started, carefully poking and prodding her sensitive flesh. Isabel flinched at the sharp pricks of pain, and Alistair started to rub her back in an attempt to help. "The poison from the spider's fangs was more complicated. Your body temperature dropped dangerously low, and we weren't sure you were going to make it," she continued, her gaze flicking to Alistair's for a brief moment. "Morrigan was able to harvest some of the spider's venom and create an antidote from it. You were still freezing to the touch, but between the fire, the blankets, and Alistair and the dog, we were able to warm you back up."

"Thank you," Isabel murmured, smiling softly at the three of them.

"You're very welcome, dear," the mage replied, Alistair pressing a gentle kiss to her uninjured shoulder as Bear barked happily. Wynne finished inspecting her wound, handing her a small vial of liquid. "I'm afraid you're going to be sore for a while, but this will help with the pain." Isabel downed the liquid in one gulp, grimacing at the taste before handing the vial back to the healer. "You should get some rest," Wynne said seriously. "The both of you."

She went to leave, attempting to shoo Bear out of the tent. The mabari whined in protest, and Isabel snorted a laugh, calling him over. She grabbed his face and pressed a kiss to his wet nose before telling him to go with Wynne. Once she and Alistair were alone, she let out a sigh and rested her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around her.

"Are you all right? Do you need more blankets?" he asked softly, and she smiled.

"I'm actually quite warm… and not because you're practically naked," she started, laughing to herself as she looked up and met his gaze. "Though, that might be some of it."

He chuckled nervously, blushing again as he reached for their packs, no doubt to find some clothes for them to wear. Isabel stopped him, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together.

"What are you doing?" he breathed.

"Don't," she said, cuddling closer to him, enjoying the way his skin felt next to hers. "I like this."

"Are you sure? You're—"

"Practically naked?"

"Well, yes," he started, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

"So are you," Isabel pointed out, her lips curling into a wry smile. "And besides, you've seen quite a bit of me already. You've _felt_ even more of me."

Alistair's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, his blush reaching the tips of his ears. "That was, um… it was… well—"

"I know," she muttered, biting her lip as she stared up at him. Isabel looked away before meeting his gaze again, her brows furrowed. "If it makes you uncomfortable, we can put on more clothes…"

"No!" he said quickly, and she quirked an eyebrow at him. He sighed, shaking his head. "I mean… I like this, too."

"Good," she said, smiling. She shivered, the remnants of the warmth she felt before fading away. "Can we do this under some blankets? I'm getting cold again."

"Of course," Alistair replied, reaching for the multitude of furs and blankets inside the tent. He wrapped the thickest one around their shoulders, and she hummed in delight as warmth began to seep into her bones again.

They sat in silence for a long time, content to simply enjoy the feel of each other's skin as they cuddled, Isabel's eyelids growing heavy as time passed. She was on the verge of sleep when Alistair's voice broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, so quiet she almost missed it.

She lifted her head off his shoulder, shooting him a questioning look. "For what?"

"The spider… I let it happen," he replied, looking at the ground. "I promised you that I would protect you from them, and I let you get hurt."

"No," she said firmly, turning his head, forcing him to keep his eyes on her. "That was not your fault, Ali. If anything, it's mine. If I wasn't so afraid… I could have fought back."

"It's not just that," Alistair started, frowning.

"Then what else is bothering you?"

"I was so scared, Izzy," he said, his voice eerily quiet. "When I saw that thing on you… when you were lying in my arms… I thought I'd lost you." Tears began to well up in his eyes, and a knot formed in her throat at the sight.

"I'm right here," she replied softly. "You haven't lost me."

"But I almost did." Alistair huffed, shaking his head, his amber eyes boring into hers. "Isabel, you were _dying_. Even after Wynne healed you, we didn't know if you were going to make it," he continued, his voice strained with emotion. "I held you the whole time, praying that you would wake up. I begged you to stay with me. I—" He stopped himself, nervously scratching the back of his head before taking her hands and holding them between his own. "I need to tell you something, and it's important," he said urgently, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

She carefully studied him, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Isabel's stomach dropped, her mouth drying when she recognized the look in his eyes—that _look_ , the one he gave her that fateful day he scared her away with an attempt at sharing his true feelings for her.

"Alistair, I don't think—"

"Please, hear me out," he begged, squeezing her hands.

"Don't say it," she whispered, her heart racing as she shook her head.

"That's not going to make it go away," he muttered."And… I may have of said it already…"

" _What?_ "

"You were dying!" he repeated, defensively this time. "I couldn't stand the thought of you dying and not knowing."

"I was _unconscious_! You can't just say that to someone when they're _unconscious_!"

"I know! But that didn't change the fact that I love you!" he said, huffing a breath of relief. "Maker's breath, Izzy, _I love you_!"

Isabel stared at him, completely dumbfounded, even though she knew how he felt, as much as she tried to forget it. She was speechless, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open as her heart thrummed in her chest, her stomach twisting. "I… I can't…"

"You don't have to say it back," he added quickly. "I just… had to tell you."

"Alistair," she breathed, her eyes brimming with tears. She pulled her hands away from his, bringing them to her chest under the blanket. "Everyone I've ever loved has been taken from me. How can I ever let myself feel that way for someone else, when the same thing could happen again?" She sniffled, wiping away a tear that fell down her cheekwith a shaky hand. "If I let myself love you, and something happens… if you died…"

She couldn't even _think_ about that.

"I know," he said with a small smile. "I just… wanted you to know that _I_ love _you_." Alistair held her gaze, his amber eyes filled with such love and affection that it melted her inside. As much as she hated it, his confession made her heart skip a beat, her stomach fluttering with nervous excitement. But she still felt a sense of dread underneath it all, like something _horrible_ was going to happen.

"So… what do you want from me?" she cautiously asked, unsure of what this meant for their relationship.

"Nothing," Alistair answered. "All I ask is that you let me love you… if you're okay with that."

She thought about it for a long time, and Maker bless him, Alistair waited in silence for her to speak, his expression shifting from hopeful to nervous and back again.

"I… okay," she said slowly, quietly. She cared about him, she did, more than she'd ever cared about anyone, and that was going to have to be enough for now. And if she were honest with herself, the thought of being loved—being _truly_ loved, flaws and all—warmed her heart.

Alistair let out a breath of relief, his shoulders slumping. "Well! Now that that's out of the way…" He grinned at her, staring into her eyes as he practically burst with excitement. His gaze dropped to her lips before he leaned in for a passionate kiss, and she could _feel_ his love for her in the way he kissed her. It had always been there, she just refused to acknowledge it until now… and it wasn't half bad. "We should probably rest," he murmured against her lips after he pulled back, barely. "You heard Wynne…"

She nodded in agreement, and they shifted around the tent until they were lying comfortably together, cuddled under the blanket.

"Alistair?"

"Yeees?"

Isabel lifted her head from his chest and looked him in the eyes, smiling. "Thank you… for understanding."

"You're welcome, love," he replied. She gasped, and he blushed, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, should I not call you that?"

"No, I… I think I like it," she answered, smiling softly at him. "It's just going to take some getting used to.

"Right," he said, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. She pressed a quick peck to his lips before lying back on his chest, a smile still on her lips.

"Goodnight, Ali."

"Night, my love."


	4. Chapter 4

After a month in the Deep Roads, the two Wardens and their companions finally returned to Orzammar, successful in their endeavor, but still shaken up by everything they encountered down there. Orzammar had a new king who had agreed to assist with the darkspawn threat. They had accomplished their goal, getting one step closer to the end of the Blight

Isabel was just glad to finally be out of the Deep Roads. She just wanted to take a much-needed bath, and then fall into bed—an _actual bed_ and not a bedroll—with Alistair at her side.

They walked down the stone corridors of Orzammar'spalace hand in hand, their companions filing into their respective rooms one by one, leaving the two alone in the hallway. Isabel turned to face him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Take a bath, and then come to my room," she ordered, and Alistair smiled at her.

"Your desire is my command," he replied with a mock bow, and she laughed, pulling him into another kiss. When they broke for air, she closed her eyes and let out a content sigh.

"I can't wait to sleep in a real bed again."

"Mmm… a nice, comfortable mattress with soft, warm sheets," he started, burying his face in her neck. She squealed when his beard tickled her, and he laughed, pressing a kiss to her pulse. "The best part is that we get it all to ourselves since Wynne has been confiscating Bear these past few nights."

"I miss my puppy," she said with a pout.

Alistair huffed, nuzzling her face. " _Puppy?_ "

"You know what I mean," she replied. "He woke up on top of me _once_ , and it was an accident. He wasn't _trying_ to hurt me."

"Wynne doesn't want to risk aggravating your shoulder."

"I know." Isabel sighed, her lips curling into a wry smile. "She should be more worried about _you_. You squish me when we sleep all the time."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!" she shot back, giggling. "I've woken up halfway underneath you on more than one occasion. And there's no escaping, either. You've always got your arm wrapped around me."

"I don't hurt you, do I?" he asked, suddenly nervous.

"No, of course not," she said softly, running her fingers over his jaw. "You've never hurt me."

"Good," he breathed, smiling lopsidedly at her.

"But… you _do_ smell," she pointed out, wrinkling her nose. "You really need that bath."

Alistair laughed as she grinned at him. "You do too, love."

Isabel gently poked him in the shoulder, shooting him a playful glare. "I am a proper lady and ladies do not smell."

"Proper lady, huh?" he started, releasing her and eying her armor. "Tell that to all the dirt and blood you're wearing."

She groaned, grimacing at how _gross_ they both were. "Oh Maker, we're _disgusting_. I need a bath _now_." She went to open the door to her room, but Alistair caught her hand, tugging her close again, his amber eyes staring right into hers.

"I still love you, even when you're covered in dirt and blood," he muttered.

She bit her lip, trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped when he said those words. Maker help her, he'd been saying it for almost a month now, and she still felt giddy and excited every time. She'd learned to ignore the worry that accompanied it, instead focusing on the _good_. He loved her, and it felt nice to be loved.

"I know," she whispered, offering him a small smile. He smiled back before pressing a quick kiss to her lips, then returning to his room next door.

Isabel entered her room and undressed as quickly as she could, desperate to get in the bath and be _clean_ again. By the time she finished washing herself, the water wasn't clear anymore, and she got out of the tub as quickly as she could, shuddering at the thought that all of _that_ had been on _her_.

She had just finished getting dressed and drying her hair when Alistair knocked on her door, and she hurried over to let him in. He smiled at her as he entered the room, and she closed the door behind him, turning to face him. He looked fresh and clean, his hair disorganized and shooting up in every direction possible. It was endearing, adorable really, and she found herself smiling to herself as she watched his eyes scan her room.

"Are you all right, Ali?"

He cleared his throat, focusing on her, a blush creeping up onto his cheeks. "I was just thinking… about the last time we slept in here…"

"We didn't do much sleeping," she commented. "At least, not at first…"

Alistair swallowed hard, his cheeks continuing to redden as he stared at her. Isabel bit her lip, her mind wandering to the night in question, the night they had almost given in to their desires for one another. In a way they had, their bodies pressed flush together, hips grinding against each other in the dark until they both came undone. It was an accident that things had gotten that far in the first place. Had they not still been partially clothed, they might have done… more.

There hadn't been much time to process what had transpired between them, because the next morning they set off for the Deep Roads, and it was the farthest things from their mind in _that_ place. But now, being together in her room again, the bed looming behind them, it was almost impossible not to remember.

Isabel felt her pulse quicken as she stared into Alistair's eyes, resisting the urge to kiss him. She wanted to lose herself in him, to forget about everything that happened in the Deep Roads, until the only thing that consumed her mind was _him_. The intensity of his gaze, amber eyes periodically flicking to her lips, told her his thoughts were similar to hers.

"Are you afraid of something like that happening again?" she whispered, swallowing hard. "Are you worried that we'll lose control of things?"

"I'm not afraid," he muttered. "I… I want it to happen again, I—" He quickly shut his mouth, his eyes wide in embarrassment as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh Maker, how do I say this without sounding like a fool?" he said with an exasperated breath. "You'd think it would be easier, but every time I'm around you, I feel as if my head's about to explode. I-I can't think straight."

"It's all right, Ali," she replied, a small smile on her lips as she reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. He stared down at their conjoined hands for a long moment, then taking a deep breath before leveling her with a serious gaze.

"Here's the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you. Not ever." Her smile grew and her heart warmed at his words. Alistair hesitated before continuing, briefly looking away again before returning his gaze to hers, speaking quieter this time. "I don't know how to say this another way. I want to spend the night with you. Maybe this is too fast, I don't know, but… I know what I feel."

Isabel gasped, unsure how to respond. "Why now?" she asked, trying to understand where this all was coming from. "Why not before? Why not later?"

"I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place… but when will it be perfect? If things were, we wouldn't even have met," he said softly. He huffed, the corners of his lips quirking up into a tiny smile. "We sort of… stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you in between all the fighting and everything else." Alistair stepped closer to her, squeezing her hand in his own. "I love you, Isabel," he breathed, holding none of his feelings back. "I don't want to wait anymore. I want this to be with you… while we have the chance. In case…"

"Don't talk like that," she snapped, her voice trembling as she jerked her hand away from his. She took a step back from him, fear bubbling up inside her at his words. "There will always be time later."

"But will there?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Maker's breath, Izzy, you almost died, not even a month ago! Next time it could be me!"

"No," she breathed, her eyes wide. Alistair moved closer to her, lifting his hand to her face, cupping her cheek gently. Isabel leaned into his touch, blinking back tears as she stared up into his amber eyes.

"I'm not saying that one of us is going to die tomorrow, but… I'd like to say that I threw caution to the wind at least once."

She pulled away from him again, narrowing her eyes at him. "Is that really why you want to do this?" she asked. "You come in here and think about our last night here, and all of a sudden you want to sleep with me because you're afraid you won't have the chance if we wait?"

"I don't mean it like _that_. I mean… all right, let me start over," he replied nervously. "Yes, it would be nice not to die a virgin… and you're beautiful, of course…" Isabel quirked an eyebrow at him, shooting him a glare. He sighed, fully aware that he was botching his attempt at an explanation. "I love you, Isabel. I don't want to waste another minute I have with you," he breathed. "Now that we're back and we're safe… I want to _show_ you what you mean to me."

"You're serious about this," she muttered, and he nodded.

"Yes," he replied, his gaze boring into hers. Alistair tucked her hair behind her ear, lightly trailing his fingers over her face as he pulled his hand back. "I'm ready… if you are."

Isabel took a deep breath, chewing on her lower lip as she thought about the choice before her. She knew Alistair wouldn't get angry with her if she said no—he wasn't that type of person. She wanted to say yes, Maker, she _really_ wanted to say yes, but she still had some concerns that prevented her from doing so.

"I want this, I do… so much," she breathed. "I've thought about it more times than I can count, I've thought about _you_ …" She huffed, her eyes darting to the floor before returning to his. "I just… I'm scared, Ali. Not of actually doing it… I'm scared of what this means for us _emotionally_.

"This is a big step. It's not something to be taken lightly," she continued. Alistair went to speak, but she cut him off, knowing what was going to come out of his mouth before he said it. "I know you're not taking it lightly. For you, this is an act of love, and for me… I always wanted it to be that, too… it's just… I don't…"

"You don't love me?" Alistair murmured, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

"What? No, it's not that, I—"

"So you _do_ love me?"

"You said I didn't have to say it back," Isabel muttered, furrowing her brows.

"So you do love me, you just won't say it?" he asked, his eyebrow arching in question.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't say _anything_."

" _Alistair_ ," she warned, glaring at him.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck before tentatively moving towards her. Isabel went to cross her arms over her chest, but he caught her wrists, sliding his hands down to hers where he laced their fingers together. She let him hold her hands, the way his thumbs soothingly stroked her starting to settle the worry whirling inside her.

"I know the thought of losing someone else you love scares you," he started. "But I only ask because… well, I'm pretty sure you love me. I mean, I _think_ so… Maker, I _hope_ so… a little reassurance that I'm not making this up would be nice…"

"Alistair," she breathed, his name getting stuck in her throat as her chest tightened.

"I know that I said you didn't have to say it, and you don't… but if you _feel_ it, if you _do_ love me…" He let out a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over her face before returning to her eyes. "I would want to know if you did before we went through with this."

"So now you don't want to do this because I haven't said if I love you or not?" Isabel asked dryly.

"No, I— _Maker_ , I'm making a mess of this, aren't I?" Alistair sighed, giving her hands a brief squeeze. "Isabel, I love you, so much. And I do want to do this, _because_ I love you… but I don't want you to feel pressured into agreeing to it if you don't love me. I want _you_ to know how you feel before we do this… and when you do know… I'll be here for you."

Alistair released her hands and caressed her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead before brushing past her. Isabel turned, still processing his words as she watched him make his way to the door.

"You're leaving?" she muttered, her voice small.

"I think it's for the best," he said, facing her.

"You won't even sleep here? We haven't slept apart since before the Deep Roads…"

"I don't want to risk doing something one, or both, of us will regret." He offered her a small smile. "It was too soon to bring any of this up. I should have kept my thoughts to myself, I'm sorry."

Stunned, Isabel could only watch as he continued towards the door. Everything he had said was racing through her mind as she tried to sort through her own thoughts.

Maker damn him, but he was _right_. She could deny it all she wanted, but Isabel already knew she loved Alistair. It was saying it, making it _real_ —that's what frightened her. There would be no turning back after that. Until then, she could fool herself into thinking she wasn't as emotionally invested in him as she already was. So she kept her mouth shut.

Everything would be fine.

But it _wouldn't_.

Because she _loved_ him.

"Alistair, wait," she whispered, her voice trembling. He froze at the sound, closing her door again before slowly turning to face her, his brows knit together as he curiously stared at her. "You're right… I do," she continued, unable to meet his gaze.

"You do? You do, what?" he asked, confused, and she took a deep breath and finally looked him in the eyes. His jaw dropped as he understood what she meant, his eyes going wide as he inhaled sharply. "Oh, you do?"

"Yes," she answered with a nod, almost squeaking the word out. Isabel blinked back tears, a shaky breath escaping her lips. "I… I love you, Alistair. It terrifies me, but I love you."

The grin that lit his face was stunning, his eyes shining with such love and adoration for her. He cupped either side of her face with his hands, a laugh bubbling up from his chest.

"Maker's breath, Izzy, I love you, too," he said, sounding so relieved. He kissed her, and she could _feel_ his love for her in the kiss. Isabel finally let herself do the same, holding nothing back, letting the true magnitude of her feelings wash over her. When Alistair pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers with a smile, taking a few moments to collect himself. "Don't be scared of this, love," he murmured. "We _love_ each other. As long as we have that… what could really go wrong?" His smile disappeared as he frowned, sending a pang of fear through her. "Well, actually, a lot of things could go wrong…"

Isabel snorted something between a laugh and a whine at his attempted joke. "That doesn't help."

"No, I suppose it doesn't," he said with an uneasy chuckle. Alistair sighed, giving her a small, lopsided smile as he stared at her. "Don't be scared," he pleaded. "Whatever the world throws at us, we'll face together. We've made it _this_ far."

"I almost died, remember? It could be _you_ next time," Isabel muttered, echoing his earlier statements.

"I know, love, I know," he said, pursing his lips together. "I can't promise you something like that won't happen again… but I can promise that I will love you, and care for you, and be here for you, as long as I live." He swallowed hard, his gaze burning into hers. "Isabel… you have my heart, and I hope… I hope you can trust me with yours."

She huffed and bit her lip, her heart swelling at his words. "You have it," she breathed.

Alistair smiled at her, that wonderful lopsided grin of his. "Then I shall treasure it as if it were my own."

Isabel snorted again, biting back laughter. "Stop trying to be poetic and _kiss_ me."

"As you wish, my love," he replied, still grinning.

She let out a giggle, the sound soon silenced as he brought his lips down to hers.


	5. Chapter 5

One kiss led to another, and another, things heating up between the two Wardens. Their hands grasped at each other as they held each other close, soft sighs escaping their lips as they moved against each other. Alistair pulled back, almost out of breath, shooting Isabel a questioning look.

"Are we…?"

"Yes," she muttered before kissing him, knowing exactly what he asked. She lifted his shirt, sliding it up his torso as he lifted his arms and broke the kiss, allowing her to pull it over his head. Isabel went to kiss him again, but he stopped her, pulling his head back the slightest bit as she leaned closer. She looked at him, her brows furrowed as she studied him.

"I don’t want to rush this," he murmured, his eyes burning into hers. She relaxed, nodding and biting her lip at the intensity of his gaze. She watched as he took her hand in his, his thumb kneading her palm before he lifted it, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of her wrist. He slowly kissed up the inside of her arm, pushing the sleeves of her shirt upwards as he moved. Each press of his lips and scrape of his beard sent shivers down her spine, her eyes closing as gooseflesh pleasantly settled over her skin.

When he reached the top of her arm he moved behind her, brushing her hair away from her shoulder before gently unlacing the ties at the top of her shirt so he could tug it down to hang off of her shoulder. He kissed her there, too, soft, open-mouthed kisses blending with little nips and flicks of his tongue as he made his way up her neck, his fingers tracing aimless shapes over her sides and stomach underneath her shirt.

"I love you," he whispered, and she smiled to herself.

"I love you, too," she replied, and he buried his face in her neck, a smile on his lips as well. His fingers kept moving over her skin beneath her shirt, and she squirmed as they came dangerously close to the underside of her breast. She didn’t know if that was on purpose or not.

Isabel whirled around, looking him right in the eye as she pulled off her shirt in one fluid motion, dropping the fabric at her side. Alistair’s gaze immediately dropped to her bare chest, his eyes wide and his cheeks beginning to blush as he took her in. She thought she should have felt nervous and vulnerable standing there half naked, but she didn’t—it was almost impossible to feel like that when he was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Alistair’s gaze drifted to the scar on her right shoulder, a reminder of their journey in the Deep Roads. He stepped forward, honed in on the scar as his hands found her hips, thumbs softly stroking her skin as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He dipped his head, his mouth finding her shoulder as he pressed a gentle kiss to the scar, his hands slowly sliding up from her hips to her breasts. 

She gasped as he tentatively fondled them, his lips still planting little kisses to her shoulder. It was nothing like the way he’d touched her that one night they had almost given in to their desires for one another—this was gentle and soft, but _sweet Maker_ did it feel just as good as that one night, if not _better_. Isabel fisted her hands at her side, pushing her breasts into his hands as he rubbed his fingers across her skin, jolts of pleasure shooting through her when his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

He stopped kissing her scar, a strangled noise ripped from the back of her throat as his mouth replaced one of his hands, closing around the peak of her breast. Isabel’s hands flew up, her fingers of one hand twisted in his hair, the others digging into his shoulder, encouraging his ministrations. Her entire body warmed as he continued working her with tongue and lips, her knees growing weak and her breaths coming in short pants. He switched his attention to her other breast, and she swore her heart was going to burst with how loud and fast it pumped in her chest.

When Alistair pulled back, she fluttered her eyes open and looked down to meet his heated gaze. He was kneeling before her, his hands stroking her back as he held her close. 

Funny, she didn’t even register him getting down there.

Isabel didn’t have time to ponder the thought, his lips finding her skin again as he kissed down her stomach, her muscles tightening and quivering at every touch. He brought his hands to the ties of her pants, lingering there as he pulled back and met her gaze again, silently asking her permission to continue. She nodded, and he swallowed hard as he nervously fumbled with the ties. She could see him growing frustrated when he was unable to untie them, so she placed her hands over his.

Alistair sighed, allowing her to assist him until her pants were finally open. Together they pulled them down over her rear and past her thighs, until they released them and they pooled at her feet. He raked his eyes over her legs from ankles to thighs, seeming utterly amazed at the sight of them. Still kneeling before her, Alistair nudged her back to sit on the bed, and she did, leaning back and resting her weight on her elbows as she watched him.

He took her leg, planting a kiss on her ankle before starting to kiss up her calf and over the inside of her thigh, just as he did with her arm. His kisses were so slow and deep, growing more torturous the closer he got to the apex between her thighs. She tried to sit still but _couldn’t_ , heat pooling in her belly as she wriggled on the edge of the bed. She needed to do _something_ , she couldn’t just sit there completely overwhelmed by him anymore.

Isabel breathed his name, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t hear her, too focused on his task. She threaded her hand in his hair, grasping at the short strands as she pulled his head back. That got his attention, and the moment he looked up at her she grabbed either side of his face and drew him into a kiss.

She stood up, pulling him up with her, stepping around him as they kissed until the back of his legs hit the bed. She broke their intense kiss, her lips traveling over his jaw to his neck and down to his chest. She ran her hands over his various muscles as her lips found _his_ nipple, enjoying the way he trembled beneath her fingertips when her tongue flicked out to tease him. With a grin, she continued kissing her way down his abdomen, following the line of hair that led from his navel down to the top of his pants.

She crouched before him, asking his permission to continue with a look, and he nodded, his chest heaving, amber eyes dark as he met her gaze. Isabel swiftly untied his pants, pulling them down before placing her hand on his chest and pushing him back to sit on the bed.

She climbed on top of him, both of them moaning as she straddled him, their smalls the only thing keeping them from fully joining with each other. She could feel his need for her as she ground her hips against his as they kissed, their hands groping, feeling, and touching everywhere they could possibly reach.

"Izzy, I need—" Alistair’s words were cut off with a groan as he pressed his hips up against hers, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. "I’m not going to…" he breathed, trying to get the words out.

She understood what he was trying to say, could _see_ just how much she was affecting him in the way his body was flushed, a hungry look in his eyes. Isabel stood up, taking his hand and pulling him up off the bed as well. She stood right before him, staring into his eyes as she hooked her fingers over the top of his smalls. She kept her eyes on his as she pushed them down and let them fall to the floor.

Alistair did the same, his fingers lingering on her hips before he hooked them over the hem of her smalls and pulled them down, hers joining his on the floor. They both stepped out of their smalls, slightly moving apart from each other to take a look at one another. 

He was strong and sculpted, covered in muscle from head to toe. She didn’t know where to look, her eyes darting over his revealed body, eventually settling between his legs. She had never seen a man up close and obviously aroused, and she couldn’t help but stare for a moment. When she pulled her eyes away, she noted that his posture indicated that he was nervous, his fingers twitching as he held his arms at his side. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin, his hair unkempt and cheeks red from their activities up to that point. Seeing him like this… there was something about it that clawed at her heart…

He was beautiful.

Alistair was looking at her too, his mouth hanging open as he observed her, that utterly amazed look in his eyes again. “Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, and she snorted a laugh, much to his dismay. 

"You read my mind," she murmured.

"What?" he asked, still nervous he’d done something wrong. Isabel just kissed him, a moan escaping his lips when his length pressed against her hip. She immediately pulled back, her eyes darting down again. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly ran her fingers over him, a strangled groan escaping the back of his throat. 

Alistair breathed her name, a sense of urgency in his tone. She whispered an apology as she planted a kiss on his neck, his fingers curling against her waist. She took one of his hands in hers, pulling him along as she stepped around him so her back was to the bed. She sat down, tugging him with her, and shuffled upwards as he climbed over her, supporting himself on his forearms. He didn’t take his eyes off of hers as he settled between her legs, both Wardens hitching a breath when they came close to brushing up against each other.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers, their chests pressed together as they panted. 

"Yes," she answered, confidently. "Are you?"

“ _Maker_ , yes,” he said, and she let out a light laugh before kissing him deeply. Alistair reached between them, taking himself in his hand, hesitating.

"Do it," she breathed, and he nodded, lining himself up and pushing inside her.

He groaned, the sound emanating from deep in his chest, and she gasped, biting her lip as her fingers dug into his shoulders, their eyes closed tight as their foreheads pressed together. Neither of them moved once his hips were flush against hers, their breaths ragged and uneven, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. He shifted, started to pull back out, and she grabbed his rear, holding him still.

Alistair fluttered his eyes open, concern in his gaze when he saw her. “What’s w-wrong?” he asked, his voice strained and shaky, pleasure written all over his face. “Did I h-hurt you? Do y-you want to s-stop?”

"I’m fine," she answered, her words barely more than a breath. "Just… give me a moment to adjust."

He nodded, unable to say much else, waiting for her signal to continue. It’s not that it was painful or uncomfortable, it was just… weird. It was something that was going to take some getting used to. It was… different.

Isabel nudged her lips forward, nuzzling against his face until he kissed her, his movements uncoordinated and sloppy. Their kisses grew more intense, as they often did, her hand sliding up his back as she lightly dragged her fingernails over his skin.

"Move," she whispered against his lips, and he did as she said, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in again, both Wardens groaning in unison at the feeling. Over and over he slowly thrust into her, the unusual sensation becoming more and more pleasurable. Soon enough Isabel was bucking her hips up to meet his as they moved together as one.

Their kisses devolved into nothing, the two unable to concentrate on such a thing, too preoccupied with the feeling of their bodies joining. She was gone, lost in the feeling of his sweat-slick body pressed against her, the feeling of him _inside_ her… the way he sounded when he moaned her name… his scent… _all of him_. 

They buried their faces in each other’s necks, gasping,grunting, panting, and moaning as they moved. Alistair picked up the pace and she raked her fingernails over his back again, harder this time, arching up against him.

"Don’t stop," she breathed in his ear, heat coiling in her stomach as her release slowly built up. He moved faster, harder, until he stilled, buried deep within her, spilling his release inside her. He bowed his head against her own, loudly groaning her name as his he gripped her hip tightly. She held him close as he rode out the waves of pleasure from his climax, her own pleasure fizzing away before it had a chance to peak.

Alistair collapsed into a boneless heap against her, barely remembering not to crush her. He wrapped his arms around her as best as he could, resting his forehead against hers as his wild heartbeat visibly thumped in the vein of his neck. Isabel looked into his eyes, and he seemed worried and embarrassed.

"I love you," he said, his voice raspy from exertion, and she held either side of his face, her thumbs stroking his cheeks as she nuzzled his face.

"I love you, too," she said softly, and he exhaled in relief, pressing a tired kiss to her lips. When he pulled back he seemed disappointed again.

"You didn’t…"

She shook her head, understanding where his dissatisfied emotions were coming from. Isabel soothingly ran her fingers through his hair, offering him a small smile. “We have lots of time to practice,” she murmured. “It’ll happen next time.” He furrowed his brow, and she could see an idea brewing in his mind. “Alistair, what is it?”

He didn’t answer her, instead pressing a tender kiss to her lips, one of his hands coming up to cradle her face. She didn’t feel the other one slide down her body until he slipped it between them. He didn’t find what he was looking for right away, but when he did, she lurched against him, a moan slipping past her lips as she grasped onto him.

Isabel breathed his name desperately as he moved his fingers over her, burying her face in his neck as she held him tight, pleasure reigniting within her body. It didn’t take long until she was right where she was before, and soon after that she was close to the edge, her skin on fire, her heart speeding inside her chest as she writhed against him. Alistair was kissing her neck, his lips finding her sensitive collarbone, and she lost it when his teeth lightly grazed her there.

She heard his breath get stuck in his throat as she arched against him, his name leaving her lips as she tensed around him, her body shaking with her release. Her head buzzed with the aftershocks of her climax as she slowly came down from her high. Alistair pressed little kisses to her face, until he planted a final kiss to her lips before pulling out and rolling off of her, plopping down on the bed right next to her.

They both stared up at the ceiling as they regained their breath and let their heartbeats return to normal. Alistair huffed, and when Isabel turned to look at him he was smiling up at the ceiling like a fool.

“ _That_ …” he glanced to her, “ _you_ …” he looked back to the ceiling. “That was _amazing_.” She let out a light laugh and a content sigh, smiling to herself as he rolled onto his side. He propped his head up on his hand, looking at her with furrowed brows. “Was it good for you, too?”

Isabel turned to face him, mirroring his position as she held her head up with her hand and shot him a wry smile. “Were you not there for that last bit?” she asked, watching him blush. “Yes, Ali, it was good for me, too.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not just saying that, right?”

She shifted herself closer to him, lightly running her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Of course not. I would tell you if I didn’t enjoy myself. But I _did_ , so no worries.”

"Good to know," he said with a laugh, snaking his arm around her waist.

"But I do have one thing I would like to point out," Isabel started, his eyes widening. "I did _not_ expect you to know how to use your fingers so well.”

Alistair blushed a deeper shade of crimson, looking away before meeting her gaze again. “Oh… _that_ …”

"Yes, _that_ ,” she said. “It was a _very_ pleasurable surprise, indeed.” His face lit up, and he smiled lopsidedly at her, pleased with himself. “And I doubt you learned such a thing in the Chantry…”

"No, no, no," he said, chuckling. "In fact, I should have been struck by lightning by now, according to all the sisters at the monastery."

Isabel couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that so?”

"Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it." Alistair shot her a devious grin. "I’m a bad, bad man."

"You are anything but _bad_ ,” she replied with a light laugh. “You were quite wonderful.”

“ _Wonderful_?” he asked incredulously. “I don’t know about _that_.”

"Wonderful," she repeated, giving him a serious look.

He huffed, smiling bashfully at her. “Well, I can’t take all the credit for that. The other Grey Wardens used to talk…”

"Bragging about their conquests, no doubt."

"Yes. It was a way to pick up on things I never learned in the Chantry."

"In that case, thank the Maker for the Wardens and their talk of conquests," Isabel said with a grin, and he laughed, nodding at her. When his laughter died down, he kissed her, softly and tenderly, his hand coming up to caress her cheek.

"I love you, Isabel," he said quietly, staring right into her eyes. "I love you so much."

"I know." Excitement shot through her at his words, her heart swelling in her chest. "I love you, too, Alistair." she whispered, lightly running her fingers over his jaw as he beamed at her.

"See? Was that so hard?" he teased, and she snorted, rolling her eyes at him. He laughed at her and she shook her head, lightly shoving him in the shoulder before cuddling up next to him, nestling her face in the crook of his neck. He curled his arm around her, holding her close, and she sighed, content in his arms.

"Goodnight, Ali," she murmured, sleep starting to take ahold of her.

"Night, Izzy," he said back, yawning. She smiled to herself as his steady breaths and the thump of his heart lulled her to sleep.


End file.
